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Back The Last Guests
Chapters (54)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART ONE
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. DEADLY SAS RAID IN AFGHANISTAN UNDER SCRUTINY
  11. FIVE
  12. SIX
  13. SEVEN
  14. EIGHT
  15. NINE
  16. TEN
  17. ELEVEN
  18. TWELVE
  19. THIRTEEN
  20. FOURTEEN
  21. FIFTEEN
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. EIGHTEEN
  25. NINETEEN
  26. TWENTY
  27. PART TWO
  28. TWENTY-ONE
  29. TWENTY-TWO
  30. TWENTY-THREE
  31. TWENTY-FOUR
  32. TWENTY-FIVE
  33. TWENTY-SIX
  34. TWENTY-SEVEN
  35. TWENTY-EIGHT
  36. TWENTY-NINE
  37. DANIEL MOORE: ‘A SINGLE BLOKE, HAPPY-GO-LUCKY, A BIT OF A DUNCE BUT WITH A GOOD HEART,’ BEST FRIEND SAYS.
  38. THIRTY
  39. THIRTY-ONE
  40. THIRTY-TWO
  41. THIRTY-THREE
  42. THIRTY-FOUR
  43. THIRTY-FIVE
  44. BREAKING: POLICE CONFIRM DANIEL MOORE ACTED ALONE
  45. THIRTY-SIX
  46. THIRTY-SEVEN
  47. THIRTY-EIGHT
  48. THIRTY-NINE
  49. SECOND ARREST MADE IN WESTAY HIDDEN CAMERAS CASE
  50. EPILOGUE
  51. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  52. Discover More
  53. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  54. Also by J. P. Pomare

I SCRABBLE ACROSS the floor and clutch the gun to my chest. Then fall silent listening to the house. More footsteps. I try to trace them, focusing my hearing in the direction of the stairs but I can’t tell where he is. I look at the phone. It shows me the inside of the bathroom, then the bedroom upstairs. I can hear a knocking sound. My other hand trembles around the gun. The storm lashes the house outside. Could he have worked out I have freed myself? What if he has another weapon? He’s unarmed. I drag in a breath and step towards the kitchen as quietly as I can. I need to get help, my phone is still in the car but he has the car keys. I could break the window, but what if he’s already taken my phone? What if the car alarm goes off? Cain’s phone was in his pocket but it had run out of battery. What is he doing with Cain?

There’s a little light passing down the stairs from the bedroom; the bedside lamp is on. I imagine Cain, a body with no head, just a spray of blood, bone fragments and that colourless pulp of brain matter. My breath shakes in my chest. Keep going, Lina. Do something. I hold the gun out in one hand, the phone in the other. He’s not anywhere on the screen. Is he hiding, waiting for me? My experience with firearms is limited to the single time Cain took us to a shooting range in the US. It was our honeymoon and he insisted we go. Everyone should know how to fire a rifle, just in case. In case of what? Did he ever imagine this scenario? I wouldn’t trust myself to aim, or pull the trigger if it came to that. I could run, through the dark and rain. Where would I go without a car though? Aim it with both hands, always the centre mass, spread your feet.

I creep further, heading towards the front door. Gently turning the lock and the handle, pulling it silently. The wind presses the door hard, it whistles past me into the house. Then I hear a scream. Loud, tearing agony. Another gale blows the door from my hand. It slams against the wall. I’m electrified. Cain is alive. My relief is suspended because he’s in pain, we’re not out of the woods. I look at the phone. It’s locked on these streams, touching the screen does nothing, there are no buttons to press. With the gun in my right hand, keeping watch over my shoulder towards the stairs, it takes all my strength to close the door quietly against the force of the wind. It clicks shut. Move, Lina. Easy steps over the cool wood floor.